


Nose to Nose but Wanting to be Mouth to Mouth

by saladbabie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Harley Keener is a mess, Keenker, M/M, Parley, Peter Parker is a Mess, Prank Wars, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Sick Peter Parker, and I love fluff, i love these boy, parkner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:42:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23886901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saladbabie/pseuds/saladbabie
Summary: That night they both knew. They knew it was enough for both of them to just exist so long as they existed with the other.(or: five times Peter snuck into Harley's room + one time Harley brought Peter there himself)
Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Comments: 57
Kudos: 696





	1. Midnight Snacks

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first time writing Parkner and I'm such a rusty writer. I appreciate respectful feedback and comments. Anyways I love the Parkner community so hit me up if you want to chat. You can find me on tumblr @ethereal-parkner. Chat with me :)

When Tony flew Harley up to New York for the first time to stay in the tower for summer internship with Peter, Peter was hesitant. Tony had told him countless times that they would be great friends, but Peter seemed unsure when they first met. The boy was handsome, tall, with a permanent mischievous glint in his eyes. What Peter didn’t like about the boy, though, was the way he joked and teased. 

Harley never teased like Flash, or even like MJ. Peter always knew that’s how MJ was friendly, and he could always tolerate Flash to an extent. But Harley was never just friendly, Harley was never mocking or malicious either. Harley made Peter flush and flustered. Harley teased Peter relentlessly until he was beet red and sputtering out unfinished sentences. Harley was relentless.

“I didn’t realize you liked me so much, Parker.” Harley would grin and watch Peter blush and hide his face in his hands when he was unable to find a response.

“Are you flustered? You must be speechless.” Harley would chuckle until Peter had to lock himself in his room, embarrassed and unhinged. When the two came back together to work in the lab the next day, Harley would pretend like the day before had never happened and do it all over again.

Nonetheless, just as Tony had predicted, the two became best friends. Harley stopped teasing as much, and Peter learned to tolerate it when he did. When Harley went back to Tennessee, they exchanged numbers and spent the next year texting and calling nearly every day to talk about school, projects, superhero things, and each other. So when Harley returned the next summer, the two were nearly inseparable. They spent all of their free time together, playing games and watching movies, or even just talking, the two clicked naturally.

As much as they loved their free time, and even though they knew they were the only two in Stark Internships because Tony liked the two to spend time at the tower, they still had to do work during their days. Individual and shared projects alike filled their minds, and the two worked endlessly.

One particular project had seemed to hold Peter hostage, unable to let go of his passion project until he was finished.

Peter was never one to give up easily when working on a project. (Close association with Tony Stark would do that to you). However, when he knew he was on the verge of a big breakthrough, he seemed to hit a lull in progress. Countless days cooped up in the lab left Peter unaware of the passage of time as he tinkered with tools and equations alike. In fact, he was so lost in his focus that he hadn’t noticed when he emptied the mini fridge in the lab, but lo and behold, when he went to grab a snack (which had to happen often) he could only see white walls and no food. Against his better judgement, he decided he would push through to the end of the project. Peter knew he would be finished soon.

Hours passed and before Peter made any progress. Not to mention he was tired, and lightheaded (stupid enhanced metabolism made him need food all the time). But because of that, he knew the fridge in his own room was empty, it’d been empty for weeks. And the communal fridge was two floors away, Peter figured anything closer would be better. Luckily, he knew the room next to his always had food, Harley’s room.

Peter had certainly been in Harley’s room before. They watched movies and played board games on the floor, but he’d never wandered in alone. But as more time passed, Peter felt more and more as if he might not make it even to Harley’s room, so he left his work to trudge down the hall.

Pushing Harley’s door open, he quickly scanned the room before finding the boy’s stash of food in the corner. Quickly, he sat in front of the mini fridge and pulled out a gatorade before resting his head against the door and taking small sips, unwilling (maybe unable) to budge from the spot. Peter shut his eyes tight when he heard footsteps approach the door; he could recognize Harley’s steps easily. They were always rhythmic and self-assured.

Peter quickly understood why he heard Harley falter and hesitate at his door. He’d left it open; Harley would think there was an intruder. (Possibly Peter was an intruder, but not a dangerous one, certainly not in his current state). “Just me, Harls” Peter almost croaked to relieve the boy’s tension.

“Peter, what’s going on? You ok?” Harley nudged the door open to see the younger boy shaking in the corner, head rested on the mini fridge.

“Just need a snack,” Peter groaned, “I feel like I’m dying.”

"Wait here," Harley sighed "I'll grab something from the kitchen.

"You don't have to-" Peter didn't finish his sentence before Harley was out of the room, on a hunt for sustenance. 

As quickly as Harley left, he returned with a water bottle and two sandwiches, handing Peter a sandwich and rubbing his back, because if his best friend needed food constantly, he’d make damn sure he’d get the food he needs. Harley wasn't sure Peter would ever know how much he means to him. Harley wasn't sure he needed him to. Because Harley knew Peter was more than his friend. Harley knew he'd do anything for Peter.

“You doing ok?” Peter had never seen Harley so gentle, even with him. All Peter could answer was a nod as he slowly gulped down bites of sandwich made exactly how Peter always asks. He never considered Harley would know the sandwich he liked in particular, but they did eat together all the time.

The two sat together in the dark room, not talking, not joking, just existing. They listened to the sounds of traffic and crickets and air in the room, comfortable. That night they both knew. They knew that it was enough for both of them to just _exist_ so long as they existed with the other. 

“Come on, Pete. Let’s get you to bed.” Harley grunted, pulling Peter to his feet once he'd gulped down the last of the water. He held the boy’s shoulder with a hand on his back, leading him to his own room before giving their ‘goodnight’s, only hesitating for a moment before parting.


	2. Redecorating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kid, why on earth do you need so many photos of yourself?”
> 
> “For Harley” Peter answered simply. Tony decided not to press on, knowing better than to get involved with the antics of the two boys.
> 
> (or: Peter wanted to get Harley back for a prank. Harley knows Peter and pranks too well to let him get away with it without having some fun.)

Peter knew Harley well, possibly better than anybody knew Harley, but still, Harley never failed to surprise him. The boy’s energetic wit and charming claim to life often left Peter shocked. Consider the time when Harley set all of the clocks in the tower ahead by 4 hours and told everyone aside from Peter. He didn’t even want to know how he was able to get to his phone and watch for long enough to reset them. The boy had woken up to his alarm at what he thought was seven in the morning, not taking care to notice that it was pitch black (maybe it was a dark morning, Peter wasn’t educated on light pollution). So Peter ate his breakfast at three in the morning, even more confused when 8:00 came and went without the sun coming out even a little. In fact the moon was still bright and high in the sky. He had continued what he thought to be a normal day until Tony came out of an insomnia-induced tinkering session asking Peter why he was awake and dressed at five in the morning. By the time Tony had explained it, Peter was more confused by how he hadn’t realized than by the actual realization.

Peter’s reaction was the only one he considered appropriate: banging on Harley’s door at 5:30 in the morning. Harley opened the door to greet Peter wearing only pajama pants, (a detail which Peter would roll over in his mind countless times for the next few hours).

“Pete, what are you doing up so early?” Harley could only stifle a knowing, sleepy grin at his own trick. Harley was rewarded by the sight of Peter not knowing whether to be flustered or to pout, somehow managing both.

Harley’s talent for tricks and pranks were unmatched, so Peter was baffled, to say the least, when he noticed that every photo of him in the tower was replaced with a picture of Wilbur Robinson. His school photos had all been replaced with frames from the movie, group photos had faces taped over him, candid pictures were replaced with concept art, and the worst part? Peter had no idea how long they’d been like that. Surely he may have only just noticed because they’d only just gone up, but, clearly, Peter was never known to be too observant, and too often were actions like this pulled only to see how long he would go without noticing. Sometimes there was money bet on it, sometimes there wasn’t. (Tony had won $50 from Harley setting the clocks forward. Peter was pretty sure that was the only reason he had actually explained the time to him.)

Confused and surprised as he may have been, he certainly wasn’t stupid. He knew his best friend far too well to even suspect anybody other than Harley. Nobody else would have considered printing a picture of Wilbur Robinson, much less enough specifically to cover every photo of Peter in the tower. Peter knew the way the boy thought of the animated character.

“Look at the way he cuffs his jeans! Peter, he’s a twink and that’s a fact.” Harley would exclaim while Peter laughed. Peter would have considered it all silly if he hadn’t had the same conversation so many times about Han Solo.

“Han would protect me, you’re just jealous!” Peter would call over Harley’s laughs during movie night.

“Pete, he’s straight. He’s dating Leia.” Harley would laugh through tears. Peter, of course, would have to then spend the evening defending the honor of his bisexual king, the man in love with both twins.

“Harley,” he called into the hallway, “Why are all of my photos replaced with the kid from _Meet the Robinsons_?”

Harley walked down the hall towards Peter, grinning all the while, “I don’t know, Pete. That really sounds like a you problem.”

“How did you have time to do this?” Peter turned towards Harley, eyes wide and arms outstretched, gesturing towards the myriad of animated twink.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Darlin’. I mean, I’m sure not complaining. Wilbur Robinson is quite the man.”

Peter glanced again at the photos of himself replaced by Harley’s animated boyfriend. His face turned red as he grumbled inaudible mutterings under his breath about the boy. He looked into the lifeless, 3-D animated eyes and curled his hands into fists at his sides, suddenly feeling resentful towards the character.

“I can’t believe you replaced me,” Peter spat only half jokingly. Turning on his heel he knew he couldn’t go down without a fight, even if he knew Harley was invincible when it came to games and antics. He spent days wondering what he was meant to do to jab back at the boy who came up with these ideas so naturally. After a week of festering in thought (and putting his own photos back on the wall), Peter was ready to retaliate.

Turning on the printer in the tower, Peter began printing. He sent a photo of Spider-Man to the printer to print out. Fifty times. He only paused his progress to acknowledge Tony who knew better than to ask, but asked regardless.

“Kid, why on earth do you need so many photos of yourself?”

“For Harley” Peter answered simply. Tony decided not to press on, knowing better than to get involved with the antics of the two boys.

With his large stack of papers and a roll of tape, Peter quickly snuck into Harley’s room shutting the door behind him. Focused on taping the photos to his wall as quickly as possible, Peter hadn’t noticed Harley enter the room.

“You think I wouldn’t notice you printing out fifty photos of Spider-Man, darlin?”

Peter jumped so hard he dropped the twenty photos he had yet to tape up. His heart pounded as the photos of Spider-Man scattered across the carpeted floor leaving Spider-Man and the peace sign he held up staring at the ceiling. Peter quickly turned to face Harley, breathless, with no plan of what to say. He gulped and it felt like swallowing concrete.

“I was redecorating. Don’t you like it?” Peter gestured to the wall of Spider-Men with a shaky hand. Harley glanced up and admired Peter's work, smiling at the array of photos. He almost lost himself in thought before smirking at the photos and crossing his arms, never taking his eyes off of the wall.

“It’s lovely. That Spider-Guy is pretty cute, y’know.”

Peter’s ears went red, “You, uh, you think Spider-Man is cute?” If Peter had been shaking before, he was surely causing an earthquake now. His hands trembled at his sides, and his knees buckled under Harley's gaze. Harley, of course, was having the time of his life making the younger boy squirm and stutter with only a few words. He watched proudly as Peter turned bright red in reaction to Harley's quips at him about Spider-Man. Maybe Spider-Man was cute, but the boy behind the mask was cuter.

“Sure do. Too bad I don’t know who he is.”

“Yeah too bad,” Peter focused on the ground. He may have panicked had it been anybody else, if he didn’t already know that Harley knew. The two told each other everything, and Harley had been amongst the first to know about Spider-Man.

“What do you think he looks like behind that mask?” Harley hummed, nearing Peter, reveling in the way Peter stepped back until he kicked the bed frame.

“Probably a nerd.” Peter breathed a nervous laugh, glancing around the room. He looked at the lamp, the window, the posters, the carpet, anywhere except for Harley who was teasing Peter again and clearly enjoying it.

“I’d be willing to bet,” Harley stared down Peter, stepping close enough for them to feel each other breathe, “he’s a cute boy with curly hair and big doe eyes that all the other boys go crazy for.” Harley let his fingers brush against Peter's upper arm, watching the way he rubbed the back of his neck and mustered weak laughs.

As much as Harley cared about Peter, he couldn’t help making him blush and stutter. So when Peter got flustered and sputtered out half sentences, it was music to his ears.

“Well, ok I better get going, uh, you’re welcome for redecorating.” Peter sputtered before slipping away from Harley and exiting the room, pulling at his sweater sleeves all the while. Harley picked up the photos on the ground, admiring them for a moment before setting them on his desk. He’d take the photos off his walls eventually, but he decided he’d rather leave them up for the time being.

That Spider-Man guy really is cute, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading my fic :^) I really hope you like it and please leave a comment if you do! The comments really mean a lot to me and inspire me to keep writing :)  
> Thanks for supporting my work <3


	3. Permanent Hug From You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You could’ve just asked if you wanted to wear my clothes so bad, Sweetheart.” Harley grinned at the boy’s eyes widening, “I mean, I would’ve just given you something if you would’ve asked nicely. You’d look so good in my clothes, Pete.”
> 
> (or: Peter is sick and tries to take clothes from Harley's room. Harley is in the room.)

It was weeks after Harley had called Peter cute in his room. (Technically he called Spider-Man cute, but Peter was Spider-Man, _is Spider-Man_ ). And, as Peter did with seemingly far too many of his emotions, he couldn’t seem to move past it. He acted normal, and Harley acted normal, and Peter stayed up at night and stared at his ceiling. He wondered if Harley did the same. He wondered if Harley had meant anything by it. He wondered if he might have dreamt it (sometimes Peter had vivid dreams). He wondered if Harley had maybe even forgotten that Peter is Spider-Man and by some strange turn of events gained a crush on the hero but forgot about the boy. And Peter thought about it until he was sick. He didn’t get sick thinking about it, but he was very sick nonetheless.

Ever since the bite, Peter hadn’t gotten sick, not even once. His asthma was cured, he no longer had seasonal allergies, and his yearly flu was long forgotten. By that point, Doctor Cho had simply assumed that his enhancements made it impossible for him to get any sort of sickness. Turns out, his immune system had apparently gotten so buffed out that it could fight off almost anything.

 _Almost_ anything.

In fact, the last time he’d even gotten sick, he was only thirteen. He’d gotten the flu, like he did every year. May took care of him like she did every year, and Ned came to visit him so they could watch Star Wars together, like he did every year. Peter’s sickness had become such a normal, almost a tradition, that when he finally stopped getting sick, the three didn’t know what to do. Ned still took extra notes three weeks after Christmas, and May still had a freezer full of frozen soup for a boy who could only appreciate it as dinner.

What eventually took him down, after years without any sort of sickness, was a cold. As it turns out, his body had gotten spectacular at fighting off diseases and sicknesses, but once they had gotten in, his body shut down. His cold symptoms made him more susceptible to his own senses. Normally his senses were overloaded maybe once a month, but under a cold, his mind was hyper-aware of every sensory input. He could smell the bakery two blocks down, he could hear whispers on the first floor, and he could feel every fiber of clothing on his skin. Not only that, but his sixth sense was going crazy. So when Tony went to wake him up in the morning, he was greeted by a sticky note on the door graced with shaky handwriting:

_Sick! Don’t talk to me_

_Don’t talk at all_

_(please)_

and he immediately understood. Tony was one of the few people who knew that Peter’s senses went haywire on some occasions. In fact, very few people knew he had enhanced senses in the first place, and he didn’t want those who _did_ know to spend too much time worrying about him. But Tony knew, and Tony understood, and Tony passed on the message to not bother Peter until he was ready. 

“Which means you can’t torment him today, okay? I mean it.” Tony immediately turned to an only half-awake Harley at breakfast. (Not that Harley would be awake enough to bother anybody at the time anyways.)

Harley chuckled at the sentiment that his known nature was to mess with Peter because if Peter were well, Harley probably would have spent his day bothering him. But he was sick, and Harley knew that. He liked to see the boy blush, not hurl. So when his plan of irritating Peter was halted by Tony, he had to make new plans: lock himself in his room and play games or work on projects, anything to pass the time. (He’d never really spent one of their free days without Peter).

Peter tried for hours to sleep, but even with the blinds closed with earplugs in, it was all too much for him. Specifically his clothing. He had all of his most comfortable clothes thrown across the floor trying to find anything that didn’t hug his body too tightly. Every shirt and pair of pants he owned rubbed against him all wrong and, unlike some other heathens in the tower, he actually wore clothes in his bed. After hours of tossing around in his bed, he began to realize he had to take action to relieve some of his senses. 

Okay, so maybe Harley had been on his mind a little more than usual lately, but his logic was completely sound. He knew Harley was taller than him, he had to wear larger clothes than Peter, and his clothes always looked so comfortable. Peter was confident that Harley had plenty of hoodies and sweatpants that he wouldn’t miss if Peter borrowed them just for a few days, and he would be out at the time doing work anyways, so Peter mustered up enough energy to get out of bed, head spinning. Slowly, Peter trudged to Harley’s room just next to his own.

Quietly, he opened the door to the room where, amongst sensing every input for a three block radius, grazed past the boy sitting at the desk next to the door. Quickly, Peter opened a drawer to one of Harley’s dressers, immediately spotting hoodies larger than Peter’s.

The sight, for Harley, was one to behold. The younger boy going through his drawer, entirely unaware of Harley just feet away from him. Even moreso, Peter’s hair was wild, his eyes tired and red-rimmed. His nose and cheeks were cherry red, and he breathed slowly through his open mouth, only stopping to sniffle. His hands shook around one of Harley’s hoodies, the maroon one from Rose Hill.

“Pete?” Harley’s voice practically made Peter jump out of his skin with a gasp. “You stealing from me now, Darlin?” Harley grinned.

Harley watched as Peter clutched the garment close with pale fingers, unable to find the words to explain himself. 

“I just, everything else is too tight, uncomfortable.” Peter’s voice croaked. He fidgeted in his spot, eyebrows furrowed and limbs stiff. 

Now, Harley knew that Tony told him not to torment Peter, and he can clearly see that he’s unwell, but how could he possibly help himself? Here was Peter, standing in front of him, blush stained cheeks, and clutching Harley’s hoodie which he tried and failed so desperately to steal from Harley who he didn’t notice was even in the room. Honestly, Harley could have sworn the image was sent from the gods.

“You could’ve just asked if you wanted to wear my clothes so bad, Sweetheart.” Harley grinned at the boy’s eyes widening, “I mean, I would’ve just given you something if you would’ve asked nicely. You’d look so good in my clothes, Pete.”

Peter only gripped the hoodie tighter, terrified to let it go, and he was positive Harley could hear the way his tell-tale heart pounded in his chest. His mind scrambled any of the thoughts he could have possibly mustered in his sickened state, and all he could do in response was mutter out weak “um”s and “uh”s. If Peter couldn’t feel the footsteps of everybody in the building, he would have thought that all of it was a giant fever dream.

“Here,” Harley fished a pair of sweatpants out of the bottom drawer and tossed them to Peter, “You can go ahead and keep them both. Get to sleep.” His shameless grin was replaced by a quiet smile, one that Peter could perceive beyond his crazed senses. 

Peter breathed quietly as he left Harley’s room for his own, where he would spend hours smiling in Harley’s clothes, even beyond the headache that pounded his skull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the nice comments, they mean a lot to me! My tumblr is ethereal-parkner  
> (If you think of something cute, message me and we can chat or headcanon or I can write or anything! Chat with me about the boys!)  
> Anyways I love the boys, I love your comments, I don't love this chapter too much but I did my best <3


	4. Fast Asleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley ran a gentle hand through Peter’s curly locks before pulling a blanket over the sleeping boy and turning off the light.
> 
> “Goodnight, Darlin.” Harley hummed with a soft smile spread across his face.
> 
> or: Peter falls asleep in Harley's bed and Harley doesn't have the heart to wake him up

Since Harley had started going on regular missions, he had always gone with both Tony and Peter by his side. That was the plan until they were sure he could go with just one or even on his own, and they’d really only been on a few. They were standard every time. The three would move out to the site, work together flawlessly against, have them down within hours, and be finished to grab takeout before the restaurants even closed. They knew their routine, and they understood each other. So when Peter was still recovering from a sickness that nobody even knew he could get, Tony banned him from their regular mission.

“Mr. Stark, please, I’m basically all better. We always go together, we always go the three of us. It’ll be no big deal, just let me go.” Tony saw the sniffles and barely focused eyes through Peter’s pleads; he knew better than to believe the boy when he insisted he was okay. If Peter was too sick and got hurt? Tony knew better. He did not, however, account for the struggle that Happy and Pepper would face trying to get the boy to stay after Tony and Harley left.

Peter, unable to even consider that the two would be fighting without him, suited up anyways. (Maybe he enjoyed the fight, or maybe he just wanted to help. He didn’t have time to consider why he needed to go so badly). Only then did Happy and Pepper rush behind him to grab his arms and hold him in his place. (The fact that they could even do that was a testament to how weak Peter still was. He wouldn’t have been able to fight even if he’d made it all the way on sight). The two held the boy by his arms in the living room for forty minutes before he tired himself out from kicking his legs and shouting to let him go. With nothing more than a sigh, he shuffled back to his room to change and wait for his mentor and best friend to come back.

Peter tried to sleep, he really did. He laid in his bed and stared at the ceiling. He listened to music, he listened to the sounds of traffic, but as the hours of the night passed, Peter grew more restless, from shooting webs out his window to bouncing off the walls (literally), Pepper eventually found him at 11:00 on the living room ceiling not doing anything, just standing on the ceiling. He walked up and down hallways, opened the refrigerator countless times, and drove Happy to his very last nerve. 

Every step through a hallway, room, or the ceiling made Peter’s thoughts race faster. He thought about how he could be helping. He thought about how this was Harley’s first mission without him. He thought about whether Harley was safe. He thought about Harley, Harley, Harley.

Why shouldn’t he worry about Harley? He was Peter’s best friend, of course he’d think about Harley. It was his first mission by himself. Of course he’d think about Harley. He had every reason to let Harley run through his mind. He had every reason to let Harley consume his thoughts. Harley, Harley, Harley. And it was nothing more.

Before he’d collected his thoughts enough to notice, he found himself at Harley’s door. He gingerly turned the doorknob so as to not disturb Pepper or Happy (he already had enough that evening). Stepping into the room, Peter closed the door behind him and glanced around the room. He sat on the bed, noticing that he’d never gotten a chance to observe Harley’s room closely, always either with the boy, or with an agenda on his mind.

Peter hadn’t noticed that Harley kept a photo of Spider-Man by his bed, the same one that Peter had taped up. To be fair, he did take down plenty, but the one still up sat on Peter’s mind. He’d kept that photo of him up by his bed. Harley’s bed was neatly made, but the clothes crumpled on the floor ruined the illusion that the bed creates. Glancing over to Harley’s desk, Peter noticed the photo neatly displayed on the side of his desk cluttered with papers and pencils. 

Upon closer inspection, Peter found that the frame held a picture of himself with Harley. The picture was taken just when they’d been getting closer. Tony took them out to celebrate “you two finally getting along.” It wasn’t like they didn’t like each other before, they just took some time to understand each other.

That day they explored New York, showed Harley around since he didn’t get the chance until then. The two got to know each other as they explored New York’s tourist attractions as well as its hidden gems. After seeing the most well known spots of the city, Tony took the boys to Peter’s favorite run down pizza place which, if you didn’t know any better, you would have expected to serve bad pizza. (But Peter knew better, and he wanted to make sure everybody knew that).

Peter and Harley talked that day about everything. They talked about school, about their friends, about their projects, hobbies, interests, everything. Tony snapped the photo when they were laughing together on one side of the booth. Peter didn’t think he’d ever forget that day. (He’d have to ask Harley for a copy of the photo too).

Peter was snapped out of his thoughts by a strong yawn taking him over. He checked the time to see that it was 1:00 AM, way past the time when they would normally be wrapped up, even with one less of them. Peter wanted to stay up and wait for them to get back, but he’d wasted away all of his scarce energy wandering the tower and sitting on the ceiling. His eyelids weighed tons and he could hardly seem to stay awake for them. And if anything, he could just take a quick rest until Harley and Tony came back.

Peter would sleep for twelve hours that night.

When Harley finally got back, only two hours after Peter fell asleep, he was exhausted. So the mission was a little more difficult than normal, and it was his first mission without Peter, and he did keep trying to look towards Peter who wasn’t there, but otherwise it went fine. A few scratches and definite aching was all Harley left the site with. Exhausted as he was, he was prevented from immediately passing out by Peter, curled up on his bed, entirely asleep, wearing one of Harley’s hoodies which is far too large for Peter.

Harley took a moment to admire the boy. His cheeks were painted red, eyelashes resting gently against them. His mouth slightly agape and puffing out gentle breaths of air as his whole body pulsed to the breathing. Unruly curls sprawled across his forehead as well as the pillow. Harley fought back the temptation to take a photo of the boy resting so peacefully. (He took the photo anyways). 

The next day he could tease him about it or needle him for falling asleep in his bed. (He never did, though. He took the photo quietly and never told Peter until Peter saw it as the boy’s lockscreen).

Harley ran a gentle hand through Peter’s curly locks before pulling a blanket over the sleeping boy and turning off the light.

“Goodnight, Darlin.” Harley hummed with a soft smile spread across his face.

Harley slept on the couch that night. He would’ve done anything to make sure that boy stayed asleep there in his bed, wearing his clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I really appreciate your kind comments :^)  
> As always, tumblr is ethereal-parkner


	5. Wide Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naturally, as they’d gotten so close, Peter grew to know Harley like the back of his hand, and could recognize immediately when Harley was starting to lose sleep (which was often, to say the least). He could notice the minute bags under his eyes. He could see when Harley would zone out, only to snap back to reality moments later as if nothing happened. But the biggest giveaway, beyond any of Harley’s physical features, was when Peter could see Harley’s light on at ungodly hours while he was on patrol.
> 
> (or: Peter finds Harley staying up too late when he swings by the tower)

Since the day Peter woke up in Harley’s bed (which caused considerable embarrassment for Peter when he noticed Harley on the couch), Peter and Harley grew considerably closer. They never talked about that night, and they’d already been best friends, but their friendship became more, something that neither of them could explain (but Pepper and Tony seemed perfectly able to identify, never mentioning it out loud though).

During one of their weekly movie nights in Harley’s room, Harley had chosen to sit significantly closer to Peter than he normally would have. In fact, he sat right next to Peter. With his arm around him. And he pulled Peter’s legs onto his lap. Not that Peter was complaining, but there was absolutely no way he would be able to discuss the night where he cuddled up close to Harley, head nestled in his chest, Harley’s arms wrapped around him, while some movie that Peter would never remember played in the background. (At least, he’d never be able to discuss it without imploding immediately).

Nevertheless, every movie night became something along the lines of that one, and the movie nights became countless after Peter was made aware that Harley would be finishing his education in New York with Tony, living in the tower. As the school year started, and Peter and Harley began attending the same school, the two grew closer than ever, spending time at school, in their free time, and during internship work. (Before school started, Tony would have argued that the two boys couldn’t have gotten closer, but by the end of September, he was proven wrong). In fact, it seemed that the only time they weren’t together was when Peter was out on patrol.

Naturally, as they’d gotten so close, Peter grew to know Harley like the back of his hand, and could recognize immediately when Harley was starting to lose sleep (which was often, to say the least). He could notice the minute bags under his eyes. He could see when Harley would zone out, only to snap back to reality moments later as if nothing happened. But the biggest giveaway, beyond any of Harley’s physical features, was when Peter could see Harley’s light on at ungodly hours while he was on patrol. To be fair, Peter was awake too, but he had superhero things to do. Harley was just staying up too late.

Peter would try to confront Harley about it. He’d ask if he was tired, he’d tell him to get enough sleep, and Harley would always deny him with grumblings of “Of course I’m getting enough sleep!” and of course Peter never had the guts to tell him that he swung by the tower every night to check on him (just in case) and could see that he wasn’t getting sleep. Only when Peter noticed that Harley had stayed up far too late for six nights in a row did Peter decide to push any further.

“I’m serious, Harley. You’ve got to be sleeping better.” He turned to face Harley, looking him in the eye, “Promise me you’ll get to sleep early tonight?”

Harley sighed. He knew that for as much as he could avoid the questions and concerns, he couldn’t just say no to Peter. “Fine, I’ll sleep earlier tonight.”

Peter was proud of his accomplishment until he swung towards the tower at midnight to see the light in Harley’s window bright as ever, indicating that Harley was still awake (because Harley could never fall asleep with the light on, Peter knew that). Peter sighed as he crouched on the roof of a nearby building watching Harley through his window: sitting at his desk and scribbling work that could easily be for both school and a personal project alike. 

Peter considered leaving. He considered swinging away and letting Harley stay up as late as he wanted, working on god knows what. He really almost did too. Standing up, he reached out to shoot a web with one last glance at Harley who was yawning and rubbing at his eyes, but working nonetheless. Upon the realization that Harley would never, ever sleep under his own authority, Peter decided not to leave. Anyways, he _did_ promise to sleep early, and Peter was watching Harley break his promise. So really the reason Peter stayed was because Harley was breaking his promise to Peter. Not because he wanted to go and spend time with Harley. Not because he couldn’t make himself leave when he knew the boy wasn’t taking care of himself. Absolutely not.

Peter considered his options. Somehow, _somehow_ , he decided the best option was to swing up to the tower, crawl up to Harley’s window, and knock. Of course Harley nearly jumped out of his own skin because _how on earth was somebody knocking on his window when he was on the top floor of the Stark tower_ , and eventually managed to calm down because _of course, who else would be knocking on his window on the top floor of Stark tower than his favorite Spider friend_. (He would never tell Peter that he was his favorite Spider friend. To be fair, he was his only Spider friend, but he still didn’t need to know that he was Harley’s favorite).

Harley quickly opened the window to let the boy in, immediately checking him over for injuries or emergencies which would explain his sudden appearance to the tower in the middle of the night, but all he could find was Peter’s unamused gaze.

“You told me you were sleeping early tonight.”

Oh.

“Right,” Harley sighed, suddenly remembering the promise he’d made to Peter earlier that day. “I’m sleeping soon, really. I just have a few more equations and then I’ll be done, really.”

“Harley.” Peter looked Harley in the eye, sadly. “Starlight, we both know that’s not true.”

“Pete, I just really need to finish this. Let me finish this page.” Harley continued to scribble equations and numbers as they spoke.

“I know that if I leave you to finish this page, you’ll be up until morning. Just go to sleep. It’ll still be there when you wake up.”

They spent five more minutes tossing around reasons why Harley should or shouldn’t get straight to sleep before Harley turned to Peter, offering full attention.

“Fine I’ll go to sleep.”

“Really?”

“I’ll go to sleep _if_ you stay here with me.”

Peter’s face flushed and his heart pounded before he found the strength to respond.

“What?” his word was broken up by nervous laughter.

“I’ll sleep if you stay the night.”

“Where will I sleep?” Peter asked stupidly. He already knew the answer. Harley smiled and stood up to turn off his light. Peter never needed to say yes because they both knew: Peter would do anything if it meant his friend would finally get a good night’s sleep (not that he would have particularly denied the request anyways).

Harley took Peter by the hand and led him to the bed where he pulled Peter on top of him, wrapping his arms tight around the boy still suited up. Peter pulled the blankets around the two of them before resting his head on Harley’s chest. Peter listened closely to Harley’s heartbeat slow down until he was positive that he was asleep. Peter glanced up at the sleeping boy, pushing blonde hair off of his forehead before settling back into place and dozing off.

The next morning, Peter woke up to the sound of Tony outside Harley’s door.

“No, May, he’s here. Yeah, they’re both here. They’re here, just asleep. He’s absolutely fine, no worries.” 

Glancing at the clock on Harley’s desk, Peter found that it was 11:00 in the morning, and they were late for school. But glancing back to Harley, still sound asleep, Peter figured they could miss just one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I really look forward to your comments and they really mean a lot to me :^)  
> As always, tumblr is ethereal-parkner and I'm always open to chat :^)  
> Anyways next chapter is last one but I have something potentially longer in the works that I've been planning for a while


	6. The Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re so sweet, Darlin,” Harley mumbled, planting a kiss to the top of Peter’s head, “My Peter.”
> 
> In which Peter is So Cold and can't thermoregulate because he is a spider

Peter never liked cold weather much in the first place. As much as he enjoyed seeing the leaves turn color and lights decorate the city, he was always uncomfortable in the cold. He was the scrawny kid who wore oversized hand-me-downs, most years lucky if he could find a coat to fit. However, after the bite, Peter’s lack of tolerance for the cold got significantly worse. In fact, most of his abilities became more difficult to use during the winter months. He slid down frost covered buildings, seemingly unable to stick. All of his movements slowed down when he realized he couldn’t thermoregulate. And as a result of it all, he was banned from going on patrol, (not that he wouldn’t try). Peter’s life during the cold months was reduced to school, coats, naps, and hot drinks.

Peter normally wasn’t sensitive. He had thick skin, and he rarely let the words of others get to him. He couldn’t, really; he had spent his whole life as Puny Peter Parker at the mercy of the world. Still, he’d learned to blow off steam by web-slinging, and not being able to swing around every night began to build up stress. 

“I’m surprised you can even afford that many coats, Parker. It’s not even cold in here.” Flash annoyed Peter to his wit’s end. He wore three coats because once May and Tony found out that he couldn’t thermoregulate, they enforced new rules that, frankly, Peter found obscene. He had “resting stations” set up around his apartment and the tower, he was given remote access to every thermostat in the tower, and Friday checked his body temperature while he was in the tower. _Every hour._ And the coats? They made him wear them.

Most days Peter wouldn’t be bothered by Flash’s words, especially when Peter knew that he didn’t have much of a choice, but combined with the cold weather and no way to relieve his stress, the words sunk deep. He felt silly wearing three coats every day; he always did.

“Come on, man, you know what Flash says doesn’t mean anything.” Ned tried his best to console Peter. He could tell that Peter had been acting off since the incident with Flash that morning, after which MJ requested that Flash “kindly fuck off.” 

“Don’t let it bother you, Peter. You know you have to wear the coats.” Still, when Peter went back to the tower that evening, he couldn’t get it out of his mind. (At least not until he passed out on the couch at 8:30 under four fleece blankets).

The next morning, when he was changing into clean clothes, he eyed the jackets folded over his chair. On the one hand, he definitely was cold. On the other, he certainly didn’t want to have to deal with Flash, he didn’t want to have to deal with the weight of the layers on his back, and he certainly didn’t want to deal with the limited mobility of wearing 4+ layers. So he decided he would go without the coats. Just for one day would be okay; Peter just didn’t need to bother with all the trouble on that particular day.

Peter went about his day normally. He acted normal, if not a little sluggish (aside from the constant shivering and _damn, it seemed like he sat under every air vent in the school_ ). Nonetheless, he managed the full day with slow steps, tired eyes, goosebumps, and no ruthless remarks from Flash or anybody else for the matter. 

Of course, Ned and MJ worried themselves with litanies of “Is this ok?” and “Are you sure you’re not too cold?” and “What will May say about this?” but Peter was unconcerned with their worries.

However, as refreshed as he should have felt, the weight of his underperforming body sat heavier than the jackets could have. By the end of the day, he was practically dozing off, but soon he’d be at the tower and warm and ready for a nap.

_It rained on his walk back to the tower._

Midtown was much closer to the tower than it was to his apartment with May, so he always chose to walk when he was headed straight to the tower. Never called for a ride, never had money for a bus, always prepared to walk, so when he stepped out of the school and into pouring rain, Peter knew he’d made a mistake. He bustled between grumpy New Yorkers walking the streets in the rain and slowed his pace with every step, nearly winded. He hasn’t felt seriously winded since before the bite, but here he was, wheezing away at the task of jogging a few blocks.

When he made it back to the tower, Peter could hardly keep his eyes open in the elevator. Stumbling out and into the penthouse, he caught the sight of _Harley Keener_ , leaning against the counter with two of Peter’s jackets in hand: the two that he’d neglected just that morning.

Peter couldn’t hold himself up any longer when he fell into Harley’s arms, teeth chattering and breaths short. Harley’s warm arms wrapped around his cold body as he led him to his own room.

“You know you need to wear your coats, Sunshine,” Harley muttered quietly into Peter’s soaked curls. Peter leaned into the touch, desperate for the warmth that Harley’s body gave off. Before Peter even noticed, Harley pulled his arm under Peter’s legs, effectively carrying the small boy to his room. Harley offered Peter a (purposely) much too large change of clothes before turning up the heat in his room and adding extra blankets to the bed. 

Harley laid in the bed and pulled Peter along with him, wrapping one arm around his cold waist with the other threaded through the boy’s curls. Peter sleepily clutched at the fabric of Harley’s shirt under the mountain of blankets, pulling him closer (if at all possible). 

“You’re so sweet, Darlin,” Harley mumbled, planting a kiss to the top of Peter’s head, “My Peter.” The last thing Peter remembered before letting his exhaustion take over.

Harley sweat through the entire night under Peter and a monstrosity of blankets. He didn’t mind, of course. He had a cute boy on top of him getting some well-deserved rest. And when Tony opened the door at four in the morning (a time when only Tony and Harley, maybe Peter, would dare to be awake) he took in the sight of the two boys, _his boys_.

They finished out the rest of the school year just like that: held hands and shared glances and cuddles that nobody else would get to see (aside from Tony if he was lucky). They both knew, and they knew the other knew, but that was all they needed for the time being. They cared with special desire, a bond that had been growing for years, and one that they didn’t yet feel the need to name.

Harley visited Rose Hill on occasion. He saw his family for the holidays, but he missed it. He missed spending time with his sister and his home friends.

“You can always just go for the summer,” Peter suggested when Harley mentioned it, head rested in Peter’s lap, “Go to Tennessee and spend the summer when you have time to spare.”

“Yeah but,” Harley didn’t need words for Peter to understand what he meant. The gaze sent his way was enough.

When Tony arranged a flight to Tennessee for Harley that summer, he made sure the jet was prepared for two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! I am planning a sequel with a little idea that I've had on my mind for quite some time. This is my first finished fic so she's like my baby :)  
> As always, Tumblr is ethereal-parkner so feel free to message me or send me an ask or anything at all!!  
> Thanks to everyone who stuck around, more is on its way (maybe not so soon because I'm still drafting, but it is on its way!!)  
> Comments are appreciated as always, they got me through to the end of this fic !!  
> Tell me what you liked/didn't like, ask questions about the story or about me, absolutely anything :)  
> Thanks again for reading :D this is it for now


	7. Tennessee Waltz

The unofficial sequel is here! The summary:

When Harley takes his best friend, Peter, to visit his hometown in Tennessee, they come up with a list that'll make the best summer together ever: Barbecues, carnivals, and Waffle House?

All that could possibly get in the way is misunderstandings, old friends, and very very slow tractors.

Anyways if you liked _Nose to Nose but Wanting to be Mouth to Mouth_ please please please check out _Tennessee Waltz_. It'll be a longer fic with a different kind of plot, and I am very passionate about this fic so go check it out!!

<https://archiveofourown.org/works/25160665/chapters/60969493>

**Author's Note:**

> Update: I'm now an admin for the [Parkner Discord](https://discord.gg/9mJSGmd) so pls join :^)  
> (read my other fics!)


End file.
